Hard Target (17 page)

She tossed her head, violent in denial and demand. “Simon… Can’t.”

“Tongue it is then.” He scooped her from the floor and deposited her on a bench. Kneeling, he pushed her legs wide and pulled her ass toward the edge of the seat. “Grip the bars.”

She grasped two foam-padded handles on either side of the bench. Kneeling between her thighs, he admired the hills and valleys of her body. She returned his smile before he affixed his attention on her pussy. Breathing deep, he rubbed his nose along her tender flesh, then darted his tongue. Sweet musk and the tang of salt engulfed his senses.

“Don’t come,” he said. “Not until I say.”

“Simon!” She clutched the hand grips so hard they squeaked. “I can’t!”

A little scream erupted from her when he withdrew his tongue and flicked it lightly against her clit.

“Can and will.” He spoke against her moist flesh and delved into her once more.

Closing his eyes, he pictured her flushed features. Used the lack of one sense to heighten his others—sound, taste and smell. Sweetness intensified on his tongue as Alex’s juices coated his chin and lips.

A mewling cry warned him to pull away.

“No…” Her whimpered denial formed a symphony of that one word, drawing it out.

Her nerve endings had to be supersensitized from the fucking—especially her clit. If he sucked on it, she’d come, bathing her channel in a flood of heat and moisture that would delight his cock as he entered her again.

He dipped his head. One lap, two, three, he laved her with quickening motions of his tongue. Fluttering and teasing, separating her lips and pulling them into his mouth with tugs and sucks. She thrashed her head and made incoherent begging sounds.

“Come for me, Alexandra,” he said, and covered her clit with his lips.

One sharp draw had the bud of her sex in his mouth. He sucked hard and she cried out in a half scream, half groan that brought a flood of pre-cum up his shaft. His almost orgasm rocking him on his heels, he released her and watched as she shuddered in aftershocks of pleasure.

He cupped himself, applying pressure against nerves and veins in an attempt to calm his arousal. Glistening sweat soaked baby-fine hairs on Alex’s abdomen. Her stomach quivered with her panting breaths. He pumped himself twice before angling his cock toward the welcoming heat of her pussy. He delved into the moisture along her lips until it coated the head of his cock.

Each pass against her flesh made his balls hitch and his breath follow suit. He bit his lip in a bid for self-control and met her eyes as he fed her pussy the first inch of his cock. After the cool conditioned air, the heat of her felt like an inferno. A satin fist of temptation that compelled him onward. Shadows defined her folds, the darker pinks and reds contrasting with the paler skin of his shaft. He withdrew, relishing the way her lips slid against the sensitive nerve endings under the head of his cock.

She whimpered and he teased her with a slow press forward. This time he kept going until his cock brushed past the fullness of her G-spot and slid into the grasping, welcoming channel. Her walls pulled him deeper, urging him onward until he seated himself deep within her heat.

He loved this bench. It was just the right height and she was at just the right angle for fucking. He grasped her hips, withdrew, and reentered her fast and hard. The slap of his flesh against hers echoed off the bare walls, mingling with the burbling music of the pool in a percussive layer of sound. A soothing breeze from the air-conditioner vent cooled the sweat running down his spine and over the crest of his ass.

Fingers slipping on her hips, he adjusted his hold and pounded into her. Unyielding. Needing. Until his orgasm took hold and he pushed so deep, clutched her so close, he forgot they’d ever been separated. Time fragmented, spiraled and eventually coalesced into something resembling reality and the present. Head pressed to Alex’s breasts, Simon listened to the steady rhythm of her heart and relished the feel of her fingers trailing through his hair. As she lifted the strands from his scalp, the air dried the moisture of his sweat. When he raised his head to smile at her, his cheek stuck to her stomach.

“Shower?” he asked.

She nodded. The light in her face was incredible, so indescribably lovely and sincere it tugged at the soft spot in his heart he’d kept for her and her alone.

“Ugh,” she said, as he stood and pulled her to her feet. “Achy.”

“Sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t sorry at all. “But that was incredible.”

“Yeah.” Squeezing the fingers she laced with his, she gave him a sleepy smile.

Moisture still ran down the mirror and walls in the shower room as they undressed. He turned on the tap and tested the water. When the temperature reached the right level, he pulled Alex under the spray. She closed her eyes while he massaged the water into her scalp. Her hair flowed over his hands in ribbons of inky black as he rinsed its already-clean length. Next he turned his attention to a bar of soap and the graceful length of her back, the swoop of her hips, and softer curves of her bottom. With leisurely strokes and swirls, he trailed slick white suds over her skin for far longer than necessary.

He rinsed her back and moved to her calves, massaging her tired muscles as he went. He spared no inch of her flesh from his attentions, lifting first one foot and then the other to spread soap on her arches and between her toes before rinsing them clean. Thighs, belly, breasts, he moved up until he faced her once more and dipped his head to brush his mouth against her kiss-swollen lips.

Much more quickly, he soaped up his armpits and own sweat-encrusted skin. Alex watched him from half-closed lids and leaned against the tiles until he rinsed himself clean and shut off the water.

“Thank you.” The throaty quality to her voice trilled over him. He envisioned laying her down in his bed where he could make love to her for days.

“For what?” He handed her a fluffy white towel from the thick stack.

Contemplating the bath sheet, Alex seemed to consider her answer as water pattered from her skin to the floor. Simon rubbed at his hair with the towel and waited for her to speak.

“For asking me to stay. For…” Her voice faltered. “For not hating me.”

Standing there with her naked and vulnerable shouldn’t have been so effortless, but there it was. He could have any conversation with this woman, at any time, and it would feel as natural as breathing. Even the arguments came easy. He never felt like anyone but who he was with her. Wrapping his towel around his waist, he handed her another for her hair. He forced himself to hold her wide-eyed gaze with its damp lashes and too-stark need. Too open and vulnerable for what they’d been through. He released a short, sharp huff of breath through his nostrils.

“Sorry.” She turned away to wrap her hair with the towel. “I know. Sex is just sex. I’m fine.”

The trouble was, it wasn’t just sex. It never was. Not with her. He wrapped her upper arm in his palm and gently turned her to face him. The tears shining in her eyes kicked him in the stomach. Jesus. She was in deep. Way over both their heads.

“Look.” He trailed his thumb over the skin of her upper arm. “I don’t know what’s going on between us, but I have never, not even for a moment, hated you.”

She seemed to search his face for hidden truths.

“Why?” she asked finally. “How could you not hate me? I can’t imagine what you went through.”

His fingers tightened a fraction and his thumb ceased its caress. How much should he reveal? Deciding they were way past hiding from one another, he settled on complete honesty.

“Oh, I’ve been angry with you. Even thought I hated you.” He shook his head a fraction when she opened her mouth to speak. “Let me finish.”

She pressed full lips together.

“I’m still pretty angry… And I don’t trust you yet.” She paled and he tightened his grip. “I said
yet
. That’s going to take time.”

She nodded and stayed silent for once, letting him say his piece. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so open and unguarded with anyone. Even Günter. Usually he’d deflect with humor or close down to deal with the rougher stuff, but after what they’d been through? Well, the façade simply wasn’t there. Not now.

Folding her in his arms, he pressed her head against his chest and held her next to his skin. Water dripped from the tap, a lonely and echoing
plink
plink
that seemed to highlight the feeling he faced a blank map. Uncharted territory where he had no compass or landmark by which to orient his direction.

“I’m glad you brought us together so we can resolve whatever it is between us.”

Her “thank you” muffled in his chest, she squeezed him once, tight. Then she stepped away. “I’ll try to be worthy of the chance you’ve given me.”

He gave her a little smile, faint and sad, and wished he had more to give. Time to change the subject.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Famished.” She dropped her towels in a hamper and pulled on the clothes he’d scooped up and brought with them on their way in the shower room.

“Comb your hair and I’ll order Chinese.”

Her stomach grumbled and he laughed. She grinned.

Forty minutes later they sat at his kitchen table, the only light the pendant fixture hanging above his table, and dug chopsticks into white boxes full of sticky rice, garlic chicken and sesame noodles.

“Carb central.” Alex slurped at a noodle and shook her head. “I’d better run tomorrow.”

Looking up from the book in his hand, Simon peered over the rim of his glasses at her. “We need to meet with Jenny and Gun at eight, and I have to hack into the MoMA employee database to find out when shift changes are, but other than that I think we’re free. I can go with you after lunch if you want.”

She shrugged. “I can run by myself. I don’t want to bug you.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Alex cocked her head and frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.” Simon set the book, a hacker’s dictionary, facedown on the table. “We just haven’t talked about my visit with John Downing yet.”

Merely mentioning the man sent a surge of fury so strong through his muscles he would’ve cracked his chopsticks had he still been holding them. The humiliation of having to let that piece of shit lord it over him wouldn’t be washed down by anything less than several pints of the man’s blood. Simon’s pulse beat in a scattered rhythm as he thought of how he’d failed Lily. They hadn’t gotten to her in time, and now Downing had her under surveillance. If they took her away he’d know and when he found her the man would make her and Simon pay double.

“I thought it was Gibbons in that car,” Alex said, drawing him out.

Simon shook his head. “No. The driver brought me to Downing.”

“And?”

“And…” Simon pushed away from the table and put his box of food in the fridge. “And he knows who you are…who you work for. He’s definitely the one who had your place ransacked.”

Withdrawing a beer, he held it out to her. She shook her head and he popped the top before taking a long swallow. The bitterness seemed to wash away the metallic taste of his anger and he took another sip before he set the bottle on the counter.

“So why are you still alive?” Alex’s skin appeared more pale than normal, but otherwise she seemed the epitome of focus.

Simon let out a wry snort and leaned against the fridge. “Probably because he…”

His eyes went wide as he realized they were in an unsecure space talking about things that could get them both killed if Downing knew he’d mentioned them. He shook his head and raised a finger to his lips.

Alex nodded, understanding his signal.

“Probably because…” he began again, scrambling for a way to fix the problem he’d potentially created. “He’s sure he can get what he wants out of me without incriminating himself.”

As he said the words, Simon realized that was exactly what had happened today. More than threats, an iron-clad alibi and inside connections would keep Downing safe if Simon tried to turn on him. The man couldn’t count on controlling Simon, but he could count on his own power and Simon’s rap sheet to protect him if the story of their business relationship came out.

Alex worried her lower lip between her teeth and glanced toward the bag he knew held the laptop she’d stolen from the FBI evidence room. Did she think something might be on there that could help? He jerked his head toward the bag and brought his brows together.

She mouthed, “Later.”

He nodded.

“Well, anyway,” he said, warming up to his act. “I’m working for him and not for you. If it means my sister’s life, you can forget about my cooperating with you fully. There will just have to be some things you’re content not to know unless you just want to throw me in jail now.”

Alex smiled and rolled her eyes before she put on a mock frown. “If you think we’re going to tolerate you slipping past our security net on this, Dr. Jakes, you can think again. We’re serious about bringing Downing to justice.”

“Ha!” He mock laughed. “You and what army? Are you crazy, Alex? Just let this one go. Get on with your career in another way. If you want to live.”

She shuddered and nodded once.